


Pink and turquoise (till the end of time)

by sweetlikesugar



Series: Two sides of the same coin [11]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Conflict Resolution, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Healing, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlikesugar/pseuds/sweetlikesugar
Summary: They meet in the middle, so soft it doesn’t feel real. Something in K’s chest gives, and the hollow uncertainty he’s been carrying around crumbles as he lets Prokopenko chase it away, leaving behind nothing but the warm feeling of safety
Relationships: Joseph Kavinsky/Adam Parrish, Joseph Kavinsky/Adam Parrish/Prokopenko, Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko
Series: Two sides of the same coin [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/705024
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Pink and turquoise (till the end of time)

The kitchen is too bright for this time of the night. It’s a full moon night and the glow of it spills into the kitchen, making K squint, offended. He never sleeps well on full moons. 

Skov claims it’s werewolf business. Jiang says it’s just too fucking bright.

K thinks Skov may have the right idea for once in his life.

He sits on the counter, one leg swinging back and forth, making an effort not to bang against the lower cabinets. Dense turquoise smoke drips out of his cigarette, against gravity and up to the ceiling, smelling like dried fruit and crushed herbs. Every inhale makes his head swim and hands shake with a rush of dream dopamine.

A quiet smack of bare feet on the tiled floor makes him look up, expecting Jiang who often accompanies K on full moon nights, tired but restless.

He gets Proko instead.

He looks more like a teenager than a monster, sleep-soft and blurry around the edges. He stumbles a little, and it makes K smile as he inhales the last of his cigarette and flicks the butt into the sink.

“Moon troubles?” Proko grins, rummaging through the cupboards. He pours milk into a mug, too quickly and it splashes on the counter. Proko swipes a hand over it, absentmindedly and pretends it’s enough as he sets a timer on the microwave.

K watches, with a steady hum of the microwave in the background as Proko ponders between instant coffee and a tin of Nesquik that was shoved deep into the back of the spice cabinet (because Jiang is an animal and will eat it dry if left unsupervised). 

He shrugs and sets down both.

The microwave beeps, too loud in the motionless silence and Proko hurries to turn it off. He dumps cocoa powder and coffee into the steaming milk. It spills over the rim when he stirs it.

“That’s disgusting” K lies around a cigarette between his teeth.

“That’s a lie, but okay” Proko grins and then winces when he burns his tongue on his chunky concoction. “No rest for the wicked?”.

K huffs a laugh. “Not when the moon’s out. That’s not usually your problem though”.

Proko shrugs and leans against the counter, their shoulders almost touching. He brings his mug to his lips again, glancing at K from beneath pale lashes. “Maybe tonight is not a good night for sleeping”.

K inhales turquoise. “No dream trinkets tonight”.

Proko’s eyes crease even though his mug covers his smile. “Run out of miracles?”.

K’s lips bow in a smile that may be a grimace. “Would you keep me if I did?”.

Proko sets down his mug and reaches for a pack next to K’s hip. His fingers flutter over rows of multicolored filters until he picks one and lights it.

“Fishing for compliments?” Proko grins.

K scoffs.

Proko leans in, lips right next to the shell of K’s ear like he’s sharing a secret. “‘Course I would” smoke crawls from between his teeth, pink and oh so sweet, morning dew and honeycomb. “You’re mine till the end of time”.

K stiffens. 

Proko inhales more pink, confused at the silence where he expected a chuckle. He nudges K with his shoulder. “Did you die?”.

K blinks. “No. I’m fine”.

“Doesn’t look like it” it’s not nearly as accusing as Proko can get, but it is forceful.

“Just-- that’s not what I expected you to say”.

They’re both confused now.

Proko reaches to put his mug in the sink, still half full and dunks the half-smoked cigarette in it as well. “Why?”.

K is unnerved by the narrowed focus of Proko’s sharp eyes. He thought he wanted Proko’s attention all for himself before, now he realizes it’s unbearable. 

He averts his gaze and shrugs. “Figured Adam was a priority now”.

Proko frowns, visibly puzzled by the direction of this conversation. “What does Adam have to do with this?”.

K’s head lolls back to rest on the cupboards behind him. “He has everything to do with everything”.

Proko moves, tugging the leg K had cradled to his chest off the counter and apart so he can stand between his thighs. Proko is by no means of intimidating stature, but it’s not his size that makes K shiver as he’s being stared down with some indescribable intensity.

“Explain”.

K sighs. “Don’t play with me, man. I’ve never seen you go full crazy for anyone like you did for Parrish. When you make him a crown jewel in your fucking headpiece of broken boys like that you can’t blame a guy for getting a bit insecure”.

“You’ve never been insecure”.

“Never had a reason to be”.

“And now you do?”.

“Don’t I?” K glares. He can feel the air Proko exhales on his face, warm and smelling like pink and coffee. “I don’t know what is it about him that drives you completely out of your _fucking_ mind, but ever since then it’s like you erased me from your fucking memory”.

Proko stares, pale brows drawn in a frown. He drums his fingers on the countertop outside K’s legs.

“You drive me out of my fucking mind too, dipshit”. Proko rests his forehead against K’s, eyes closed, lips quirked. “You were my first friend K, there’s not a single fucking thing I wouldn’t do for you” Proko looks up at him with fondness that knocks K’s breath out of his lungs. “To be honest, everything I do is for you. With Adam-- it’s like you and me. When I saw him-- I knew he needed us. We needed him too, _you_ needed him. Am I wrong?”.

K thinks about soft touches and softer kisses, sharp smiles, and sharper wit.

“No”.

Proko doesn’t grin, but it’s a close thing. “So I got to reach out this time”.

“You always reach out” K tilts his head. 

“Not with you. You found me first, remember? You found me and I _stayed_. I love Adam, and I know you love him too, but with you--” Prokopenko bites on his lip, trying to tamp down a smile “you told them ride and die, yeah?”.

“Yeah” K rasps, throat tight. He reaches to brush the brand on Prokopenko’s sternum through the worn-out cotton of his shirt. 

“Yeah, that won’t happen with me” he forces K to look him in the eye. “I won’t die with you, Joseph. I’ll find you in our next life, again and again. Till the end of time”.

K tugs Proko closer by his shirt, stretching the fabric so far down it shows the tattoo in the middle of his chest. K stares at it and then looks up at Proko.

“I’m yours. And you’re mine”.

Proko could break him now. Shatter the boy in front of him into pieces, never to be whole again.

He can’t imagine anyone ever wanting that.

“Yeah. Till the end of time”.

They meet in the middle, so soft it doesn’t feel real. Something in K’s chest gives, and the hollow uncertainty he’s been carrying around crumbles as he lets Prokopenko chase it away, leaving behind nothing but the warm feeling of safety. 

They kiss until K complains about his legs going numb and they stumble upstairs laughing and cursing, finally free of the everpresent weight in their chests. They fall into the bed and curl together immediately as if to make up for the time they spent apart.

K traces the lines of the dagger stamped into Proko’s sternum.

“You’re wearing my brand, but I’m not wearing yours”.

Proko smiles, brushing unruly hair off K’s forehead. “Didn’t think you’d want it”.

“Sure I want it” K throws him a crooked smile, the one Proko knows will result in mayhem in the least, and it makes his heart skip a beat. “Want something you’ll recognize in our next life”.

Proko grins, giddy.

Their dreams are tinted pink and turquoise.

* * *

  
  


The shift is noticeable. K no longer walks around like a man on the death row, he’s no longer quiet and angry. The bruised shadows under his eyes don’t disappear, but they lighten. He sleeps again. 

The three of them finally fit seamlessly, no rough edges or mismatched cogs. The restored balance spills over the entire house. All six of them sleep better, breathe lighter and think clearer.

They’ve never seen Proko, K, and Adam this happy before. No matter how much Jiang rolls his eyes and how Skov complains about the _disgusting spectacle that is their affection_ , seeing their friends happy makes them happy too.

* * *

Swan sits at the kitchen table, burrowed between the pages when K comes in. He even walks differently now. But that’s not what catches his eye. 

It’s the twining branch of ivy inked over a previously bare skin of his back, wrapping around his spine and between his vertebrae, as if nesting around bricks of an ancient building. K stretches, arms over his head and back bowed, and the ivy on his skin writhes and flutters.

Swan hides the smile between inked paper, wide and so, so happy, and if he grins wider when he catches a cluster of primrose and heliotrope delicately stamped over the inside of K’s elbow and his bicep, it’s no one’s business but his. 

* * *

K lies on the balcony, leeching the leftover warmth off the floor tiles. The sun went down already, and the lilac hue of the sky gives way to navy blue. He can hear the distant sound of the commotion in the kitchen downstairs, but for the most part, the balcony is quiet and tranquil.

A soft breeze tugs on his clothes and he smiles hearing familiar footsteps. 

“Everything alright?”.

He tilts his head to look at Proko, upside down. 

“Never better” K smiles and sticks his hand out, palm up. “Wanna take a break from the Chopped episode going on in the kitchen?”.

Proko laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners when he sees the cluster of flowers around the soft inside of K’s elbow.

He grabs K’s hand and their fingers tangle together like they’re meant to be.

“With you? Till the end of time”.

K tugs on his arm and Proko stumbles, landing on his knees on the stone tile, groaning in pain as K cackles at his misfortune. 

  
  
  


When their lips meet, it tastes like pink and turquoise. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>  _heliotrope_ \- endless love, devotion  
>  _ivy_ \- friendship, fidelity  
>  _primrose_ \- i can't live without you
> 
> HELLO!  
> i will start by saying this is the last work of this series. i think both me and k reached the point where we can peacefully move on from this story. thank you so much to everyone who waited for me, and waited to see this series to the end. it means a lot. as always, i love to see kudos and comments if you enjoyed this and i'm always on [ tumblr](https://mindlesslittlefreak.tumblr.com) if you ever want to pop in.  
> thank you to everyone who kept waiting and i hope this ending gives you as many happy feelings as it gave me


End file.
